


Tactile & Taciturn

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: Jaskier is a very touchy person and would hug everyone and everything if he could. Imagine the reader isn't into that and tries to avoid it and he doesn't notice until she gently touches or hugs him for the first time.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 27





	Tactile & Taciturn

Tactile.

If you had to describe Jaskier in one word, that’s the one you’d choose.

He experienced the world through touch as much as he did sight and sound. It had thrown you at first, his constant touching. It was never done in a leering way or to do anything untoward. Just casual touches, resting his head on your shoulder, hugs hello and goodbye, even kisses on the check. His hands were an extension of his personality, impulsive and caring and well-intended. That was why you never told him that you don’t actually like to be touched all that much. If someone were to choose one word for you, they may use “taciturn.” You were not an overly emotive person. You weren’t cold or unfeeling, you just didn’t express it very much. Some mistook your quiet for disdain and you hated that it came across that way but that was just who you were. Jaskier never seemed bothered by it and you were grateful enough to endure the hugs and caresses and kisses that he used to communicate, though you tried to minimize it as much as possible.

One day you ran into Jaskier in the tavern, not an unusual place to find him, and noticed something was wrong. He wasn’t boisterously chatting with anyone. He just sat at the table, both hands wrapped around a glass, head bowed over it. You approached cautiously, uncertain if it would be better to leave him in peace or ask what was wrong. You sat across from him, hands in your lap as usual, and smiled.

“Hello Jaskier,” you said. He looked up, seeing you for the first time then and giving you a small smile.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Oh… no,” he said, and continued looking at the glass.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked.

“That’s alright, Y/N, it’s… I’m just not ready yet,” he said. You sat across from him for another moment or two, considering what to do. You didn’t want to leave him in such a sorry state but you also understood that you couldn’t push him to talk about it. The only thing left, you decided, was to try and use his preferred language. You reached out your hands and gently rested them on his.

He looked up so quickly you nearly pulled them back but he stared at them and then at you, in awe.

“Is this… ok?” you asked.

“Y/N, you never touch me,” he said.

“You hug me all the time,” you replied.

“That’s not the same. That’s touching, not being touched,” he argued. Your fingers began to feel hot, the combined attention of his hands and his eyes a strong combination.

“Well, something is wrong, and I know what it’s like not to want to talk about things but you’re Jaskier and I wanted to maybe at least offer this much,” you said, mumbling the words and looking down at the table, a little embarrassed. He squeezed your fingers and you looked back up at him, a soft smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he said, and then released your hands. “That means a lot.”

“Well, you’re welcome. And, for what it’s worth, whatever is wrong, it will pass,” you said, conjuring up words that had been used to try and soothe you as a child. He favored you with another smile and then sighed.

“Is there anything else I can do?” you asked. He considered the question for a moment and then looked back up at you.

“Would you like to just… sit with me for a bit? I don’t want to talk but I don’t think I want to be alone either,” he said. A genuine smile lit up your face, the biggest he’d ever seen, and you nodded.

“I’d like that,” you answered, and the two of you did just that, resting in a companionable silence that can only exist between two friends who’ve learned to create a shared language.


End file.
